Draco Malfoy and the Devious Plan
by Foof
Summary: Draco has a devious plan and Harry bears the brunt of it all.


This is just a silly ficlet I wrote when I was bored.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Warning: Contains pre-slash. 

**Draco Malfoy and the Devious Plan**

"You want me to do _WHAT_?" Harry asked incredulously, looking at the blonde as if he'd gone temporarily insane. It was very likely, Harry mused, that he was insane. I mean, living with Lucius Malfoy for 16 years was enough to send anyone bonkers.

"You heard me Potter. Or are you both deaf and stupid?" The blonde replied, easing himself further into the leather chair.

"Of course I _heard_ what you said, you prat, but what on earth makes you seriously _think_ I'd do it?" Harry had to shake his head in disbelief.

"I don't _think_, I _know_-"  
  
"I don't think you know either." Harry cut in, relishing how the Slytherin's face tightened. "Perhaps you were just having a blonde moment." Harry mused aloud to himself.

"Excuse me, but I don't have 'blonde moments', you dim-witted fool, so shut your guts and get on with my request." Harry couldn't help the slow smile that spread over his face. Malfoy was rather fetching when he was annoyed.

"Again with the request." Harry shook his head and sat down in the chair opposite Malfoy. "You can forget it, there's no way I'm doing _that_." Harry crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. The Slytherin could make him do a lot of embarrassing things but there was no way in hell he was doing _this_.

"But you promised. I thought you Gryffindors held true to their word, you know dignity, virtue and all that other crap." He waved his hand dismissively in the air. "So, come one Wonderboy, how 'bout it?"

Harry couldn't remember ever promising to do such a thing and he didn't at all like being propositioned on the spot like that. It just wasn't cricket.

"This wasn't part of the deal, Malfoy." Harry argued reasonably. "You can't use me for your perverted pleasure." Malfoy smirked suggestively and Harry sunk further back into his chair.

"You said, if I remember correctly, which I'm very sure that I do," He added firmly. "_'When you beat me I'll do whatever the hell you want'_. Then you shook my hand, which is like signing your name, isn't it? So really, you're bound legally." Malfoy was looking very self-satisfied, something Harry wasn't at all rejoicing. 

Harry did recall the conversation, but he obviously hadn't taken it as literally as Malfoy had.

*

The Quidditch Pitch, a chilly Saturday morning, the dew still heavy on the grass underfoot and the Gryffindor team stood opposite the Slytherins, their most heated rivals in Hogwarts.

"Ready to get your arse kicked?" Harry asked conversationally when he stepped forward to face the Slytherin captain.

"Shut up Potter." Malfoy replied shortly. Harry grinned.

"I was just curious," He said brightly. "I'd hate to kick your arse when you weren't _ready_ for it."

"I said, shut up." Malfoy balled his fists at his sides, only relaxing when it looked as if Harry had given up on his berating. No such luck.

"No shit that's what you said." Harry chirped, gaining a few sniggers from his team mates.

"I want you to shut up. Now." Harry beamed at the Slytherin team, taking a step closer to their captain.

"I know exactly what you want, Malfoy. But what you want and what you get are often two entirely different things. When you beat me, I'll do whatever the hell you want." Harry's eyebrows rose suggestively and he watched the Slytherin's Adam's apple bob as he tried to swallow.

"Shake hands." Madam Hooch said loudly and two hands inched toward each other, grasping the other in a firm hold, savouring the hot touch, before letting go, and falling back to their sides.

*

What happened after that Harry had temporarily erased from his memory. He still wasn't quite sure how he'd lost, and to Malfoy of all people.

Harry watched the blonde across from him with a mixture of anxiousness and slight amusement. It was an odd mixture and it set an uneasy feeling in his gut.

"I only shook your hand because we had to." He reminded the boy. Malfoy shrugged, as if that fact were irrelevant.

"Doesn't matter," He said. "You still said you'd do whatever I want, and this is what I want."   
  
Harry slouched in his chair. He _had_ said that and he wasn't at all proud of it. In fact, he didn't know what made him say such a stupid thing in the first place, even if the game had been a sure win.

'Sure win my arse.' He thought bitterly.

But that didn't matter now. He had said it, that fact was irreversible. He groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. There wasn't really a way out of this.

"That's the spirit." Malfoy said brightly, sitting forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his thighs. 

"How about I fulfill your other request of shutting up instead?" Harry asked desperately, wondering why on earth he was still having this conversation with the stubborn Slytherin when he should have been running, screaming in the opposite direction.

"Sorry, that request was void when you so graciously refused to fulfill it the other day." He stood and sauntered over to Harry, kneeling down in front of the other boy. "Now," he said, reaching up to loosen Harry's tie.

"What are you doing?" Harry cried, jerking away from the Slytherin's touch.

"Getting you started on my request." He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"But why do I have to take off my tie?"   
  
"Not off, Potter," He said, leaning over him once more. "Just loosened." His hands began working the gold and red material.

Harry was really beginning to regret ever having opened his big mouth. And when Malfoy's hand begun on the buttons of his shirt he nearly jumped out of his chair.

"Oh come _on_ Potter. Don't be such a prude! If you're not going to show a bit of skin, what's the point?"

"What _is_ the point exactly?" Harry asked dazedly, his eyes following the movements of those long, slim fingers working open his shirt.

"The point, Potter, is pleasure. It's all about pleasure." Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't like people looking at him, he hated it in fact and this was getting beyond a small request. Malfoy hadn't mentioned anything about the removal of clothing, or semi-removal. It was probably a large fact he deliberately left out.

What would Ron and Hermione say? He thought begrudgingly, imagining their faces when they found out Harry was a toy for the Slytherin's, an icon, a pin-up.

He didn't even understand why they wanted him for this. What was so good about him? 

He didn't have time to answer his silent question as those hands had found their way to his belt buckle and when his zipper was yanked down he nearly high-tailed it out of there. If it wasn't for those god damned hands holding him firmly in place he would have been in Hogsmeade by now.

"I'm _not _taking off my trousers!" Harry squeaked indignantly. 

"Not off, Potter, just open." Malfoy leant back on his haunches, his eyes raking over his handy work before he leant back in to mess up Harry's already messy hair and remove his round glasses to set them down on the table.

Harry watched the slightly blurry figure straighten up and heard the blonde murmur appreciatively at what he saw. Harry felt his cheeks flush.

"I can't see." Harry complained, shifting awkwardly in his seat, his shirt slipping further off his shoulders. He wanted to see Malfoy's reaction, rather than just hear it.

"You don't need to see, Potter. Merlin, do you ever shut up?" He asked exasperatedly 

"I think we've already established that I don't." He replied tersely. 

"Oh yeah," Malfoy drawled. "You and that deliciously big mouth."

The large stone door lurched open, just as Harry whimpered his embarrassment at Malfoy leaning forward once more to adjust his trousers and a herd of Slytherin's stopped just inside the door looking rather startled. Harry tensed, his hands automatically moving to pull his shirt closed but found a pair of hands stopping him. He dropped them limply to his sides. It hardly mattered, they'd all see him soon enough anyway.

Malfoy turned to face his house mates, smirk plastered firmly in place. "If you don't mind," He drawled. "But I am in the middle of something here."

"Of course!" One of them said eagerly. "Sorry Draco." He said, ushering the group back through the door. "It's about bloody time though, you realise that?" He said winking at Malfoy, who was still perched on the floor between Harry's open legs. "I was getting sick of hearing about it. I'm glad to see you finally put some action behind your words."   
  
Malfoy cleared his throat in annoyance and the dark-haired boy disappeared through the door without another word.

"So where's the camera?" Harry asked irritably, not at all pleased about having been seen in the flesh like this by so many Slytherins. "Can't you hurry up?" Malfoy laughed, an amused smile playing at his lips.

"There's no camera Potter." He said, watching attentively for Harry's reaction.

"What!? What do you mean? What about the photos for that stupid magazine you and your friends are making? What's it called?"

"Hogwarts Hottest." Malfoy supplied helpfully.  
  
"That's it. So what the hell is this then?" Harry asked hotly, his temper rising.

"I just wanted to get you looking properly ravished for when the Slytherins came in."  
  
"WHAT!?!" Harry yelled, snatching his glasses from the table to place them back where they belonged. "What the hell for?"

"Well, they obviously thought I was doing more than just sitting between your legs didn't they?" Malfoy flattened his palms against Harry's legs, running them over his thighs so Harry knew exactly what they thought.

Harry put his hands over Malfoy's, removing them forcibly before doing his trousers up and standing abruptly.

"I'm sure the whole school will know by tomorrow that Harry Potter was getting head in the Slytherin Common Room." Malfoy stood up so he was eye to eye with the Gryffindor. Harry was surprised to see there wasn't a nasty sneer on the blonde's face. Just an amused look and something else he couldn't put his finger on but really didn't have time to figure out.

"So this was just another pathetic way to humiliate me, aye? I should have seen it coming. '_Hogwarts Hottest_'," He spat. "I knew that had to be fake as soon as you said it! I knew it. I _knew_ it!" He snatched his robe off the table. "And you always manage to use my virtue against me don't you? Typical bloody Slytherin." Harry was talking more to himself than the other boy occupying the room. "You sick, perverted, twisted bastard. You're going to pay for this you stupid git!"

And with that he stormed out of the room, shirt still open and billowing behind him.

Draco watched the Gryffindor leave feeling extremely self-satisfied about how perfectly he executed that plan and yet he couldn't help feeling a slight loss at Harry's departure.

Although, the thought of Harry striding back into Gryffindor Tower donning unusually messy hair, his shirt open, flushed cheeks and one shit of a mood did lighten his own mood. The Gryffindors won't know what hit them come tomorrow.

Draco sat down, wondering if he should have found a camera for the occasion as Harry, trousers gaping open, toned chest visible, hair falling in his eyes and that flush of pink sitting high on his cheeks as he leaned back enticingly against the cool leather was definitely an image Draco would be wanking off to for years to come.

There is a sequel to this called 'Harry Potter and the Devious Plan.' Cheers for reading! :D


End file.
